


The Bodyguard

by orsumfenix



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bodyguard AU, Gen, i guess??, idek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-22 22:49:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4853540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orsumfenix/pseuds/orsumfenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bart's not really sure how he got into this position. Neither is anyone else. But at least he's willing to roll with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lex Luthor

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this like a year ago i'm so sorry

“Ta dah!”

It’s very much a Wizard of Oz moment, when he emerges from the time machine and sees a pair of crushed feet poking out from under it. Bart blanches, and turns round to see none other than _Lex Luthor_ coolly glowering at him (if that’s possible).

“You crushed Mercy,” Luthor says flatly, eyes moving to the crushed pair of feet. Bart shuffles and laughs a little nervously, eyes darting about as he wonders if he can get away before Lex calls on any of his other bodyguards. For someone who just lost someone close to them, Luthor doesn’t seem very bothered.

“It _was_ an accident,” Bart offers, unconsciously skittering away from the billionaire and pondering how the time machine ended up in LexCorp. “If that helps any, which it probably doesn’t but hey, gotta count for something, right?”

Lex raises one eyebrow at the young speedster, seeming entirely too calm for the situation.

“You seem to have a tendency to babble, but I suppose that can be fixed,” he muses, almost to himself. Bart frowns, wondering _exactly_ what he seems to have gotten himself into.

“Uh, what? ‘Cos you’re kind of not making sense there and…”

He trails off, noticing the smug smirk Lex Luthor is sending his way.

“Other than that, you’ve got the job.”

Bart stares with bemusement at the older man, still wondering _exactly_ what is going on.

\--

Somehow, and he’s not entirely sure _how_ , Bart Allen becomes Lex Luthor’s personal bodyguard, replacing the one that he flattened.

“I’m Bart,” he offers, even though Luthor doesn’t ask and he’s not entirely sure if the older man even wants to know. “Bart Allen.” He half expects Luthor to go into some sort of big rage about how the Allens are scum and evil and must be killed, like some of the old Reach he used to hear talking, but much to his pleasure, nothing of the sort happens.

Luthor simply nods, taking it in, looking, if anything, like he already knew this piece of information.

“Any powers I should know about?” the villain asks, actually pulling out a damn _notebook_ and beginning to jot down notes on his new bodyguard (though Bart’s still not entirely sure _why_ he’s in this position to begin with).

“Yep!” Bart chirps, grinning insanely wide at the cool, one-eyebrow-raised look that his apparent new boss sends him. When he simply stands there smiling goofily, Luthor’s eyebrow raises even further.

“Care to elaborate?” he questions dryly, and it takes all of Bart’s willpower not to smack a palm to his head the way he’s seen people in his time do when they’re pretending to be from a time before the invasion.

“Ohrightyeah,” he says in a single blur of words that seem to blend together into one, even to his own ears. He mentally winces – it’s been a rather bad habit since he got his collar off. He _still_ hasn’t properly learned to control his speed. “Here. Let me demonstrate.”

He runs around at super speed in circles a couple times, darting out the office to snag the gun off a guard in a blur of wind before gently placing it on the desk (because, really, it wouldn’t do to slam it) in front of Luthor. The businessman stares at the gun for a couple seconds, then his eyes travel up and he stares at Bart, then he stares at his notebook and jots something down.

“Impressive,” he comments, and even that one remark is enough to make Bart beam brightly. “But, that still leaves one rather important question unanswered.”

Bart waits for several seconds, wondering if Luthor is going to carry on and, if he does, what will he be carrying on _about_ and will it be bad or good or villainy and will Bart have to run or sit down or get shot (maybe he shouldn’t have brought that gun in) and…

And he blinks, realising that Luthor has already said whatever it is he was going to say and is now staring at him expectantly.

“What?” he asks dumbly, trying not to zone out _again_ because that would doubtless be very, _very_ bad…

“I said,” Luthor begins again, sounding half amused and half irritated. He’s got this little quirk at the corner of his mouth, and it takes all of Bart’s willpower not immediately focus his entire attention there and actually listen to what is being said. Luthor is speaking very slowly to the speedster, as though he is stupid and, okay, Bart can admit, he _has_ kinda given that impression. “Why are you here?”

It takes several seconds for that to sink in, but as soon as it does Bart is running away at a colossal speed thinking _I am so moded_ because around about now Flash should be fighting Neutron and he knows how badly that ended the _first_ time (don’t think about that don’t think about it don’t think don’tthinkdon’tthink…) and _Grandpa Barry!_

Bart gets there in time to grab Flash’s wrist and tug him away from the exploding shockwave coming from Neutron, ignoring the tug in his chest when he thinks of Nathaniel and instead focuses on Barry, the grandfather he never knew. He focuses on pulling his granddad away from the danger and meets surprisingly little resistance from the Flash himself.

When they pull to a stop quite a bit of distance away, Barry Allen collapses in exhaustion, looking up at Bart with what the younger speedster guesses is wide eyes behind the cowl.

“Who’re you?” he pants out, and all Bart can think to do through the shock and the adrenaline pumping rather dramatically through his system is _beam_.

“I’m your grandson!” he announces, like that’s supposed to clear everything up, and he supposes that it kind of is, but for some odd reason Grandpa Barry just looks even more confused.

“What – but…” The Flash can’t seem to get that little fact around his head (and Jesus, Bart thought he was supposed to be _fast_ ) and the young boy wonders for one terrifying second if he’s broken him. He’s about to ask if he’s done anything of the sort when Grandpa Barry finally manages to splutter out, “but Iris and I don’t even have kids!”

Bart frowns, because he knows for a _fact_ that Grandma Iris should be pregnant by now and if she somehow _isn’t_ then there’s going to be all _kinds_ of unforeseen complications.

He decides to ask his Grandpa Barry, because the one fact that has been drilled into his head since he was little is that Grandpa Barry is a superhero and likely knows the answer to everything.

“Isn’t Grandma Iris pregnant? You know, with twins?” he says, and when Grandpa Barry makes an odd squawking sound that is eerily like he is choking on his own spit Bart then remembers that _oh, right, Grandpa Barry died before she could tell him_. It makes him feel kind of sad, but then he remembers that he changed that now, so now Barry Allen _will_ know his kids because he wasn’t killed by…

“OhmygodNeutron!” Bart blurs out, as soon as the realisation comes to him, and he sprints away again, ignoring Flash’s call for him to wait. He can’t _believe_ he’s been forgetting these things. First saving Flash, then Nathaniel, and he’s seriously wondering if he’s going to be as good at being a hero as he originally thought. Probably not. Maybe he _would_ be better as a bodyguard.

Upon reaching the sobbing and scared Nathaniel Tyron, Bart hastily pulls out that little blue ball, what’s it called? He can’t remember so he decides to call it the un-moder. Yeah, that’s a cool name. anyway, he pulls out the Un-Moder (because it _definitely_ deserves capital letters) and drops it next to Neutron, watching as it merges with his skin and gets rid of the glowing completely.

Bart smiles, satisfied, and suddenly senses a disturbance of wind that implies a speedster has arrived behind him. He turns to see not one, but _three_ (three!) Flash-people behind him – one is obviously Grandpa Barry, looking exhausted but unharmed, another is someone he recognises as a much younger version of Wally West (his second-cousin-once-removed! Here!) and the third, well… _That’s Jay Garrick_.

Bart wants to melt into a little puddle on the floor at the sight of three of his greatest heroes… No, _the_ three greatest heroes, but the sight of Kid Flash/Cousin-Wally barging towards him is enough to derail that train of thought.

“What the hell?” Wally asks, voice bordering on hysterical, and Bart vaguely wonders if this means he saw how close to death Barry just came. Kid Flash looks around taking in the now shaking Neutron being helped by Jay Garrick (and oh my god, _Jay Garrick_ is _here_ ) before his so very, _very_ green eyes shift back onto Bart, flickering up and down and taking him all in. “Seriously, though, dude, what the _actual hell?!_ ”

Grandpa, who looks significantly more calm but still very shaken and standing with a permanent confused-face (maybe Bart _did_ break him, after all) steps forward and places a hand on Wally’s shoulder, ignoring the way the red-head flinches.

“Wally,” he says, dropping all formalities. His voice is shaking. “He saved me.”

“I know _that_ ,” Wally huffs, folding his arms and looking very much like his future daughter Irey. Bart blinks at the sudden comparison. “And it was very cool, yes, but, kid.” He turns to Bart, expression caught somewhere between a glare and complete and utter _awe_. “What. The. Hell.”

Bart opens his mouth to explain, but then he remembers (belatedly, he realises) that he left his time machine at LexCorp and Lex Luthor is a confirmed villain and leaving a time machine, even if it _is_ fried, in his hands is probably a _very bad idea_.

He zips away without another word.

\--

For some reason, none of the other three speedsters follow him, and Bart doesn’t know why but he isn’t complaining. Explaining why he’s going to _LexCorp_ of all places is probably going to be _very_ hard to explain.

Much to both his surprise and not-surprise, Luthor is waiting for him when he gets back, and the time machine has not been moved but Mercy (the last bodyguard, which Bart squashed and feels rather bad about) no longer has two feet poking out. That’s a welcome change. The former… well, Bart’s not quite sure whether Luthor waiting is welcome or not.

“Hi,” he says, because he’s not quite sure what else to say, and instead of pulling out a gun and trying to shoot him (as Bart kind of expects) Luthor just tilts his head and blinks.

“Hello, Bart,” he says, and Bart doesn’t really know how to handle a supervillain from all the old stories greeting him by his first name. “I knew you would return.”

And Bart blanches, because that’s slightly creepy and then he remembers that for some reason he’s suddenly become Lex Luthor’s bodyguard and if that isn’t an indication of how messed up his life is then he doesn’t know what is.

“So, do I, like, work for you now?” he asks, just simply because it’s confusing him and he doesn’t quite know how he’s supposed to be reacting to the current situation. What would be the _heroic_ thing to do? He doesn’t know. Kill Luthor, maybe? But he’s already accidently killed the man’s bodyguard and he’d feel a bit bad if he didn’t either now leave him alone or get him a new one.

“Yes,” Luthor replies, without any hesitation, and _okay, Bart, how do we deal with this?_ This… kinda wasn’t in the plans. “That is, if you want to.”

Bart thinks on that? Does he want to? He could learn quite a lot of information from the Light, sure, and he’d have closer ties with the Reach, and seeing as how Lex Luthor already knows of his existence…

“Of course,” Luthor goes on, and _god_ , he sounds like a proper businessman now. “The pay would be good. _Very_ good. You’d require some training, obviously, but you’ve proved fairly competent and removing any threats, so far… That little debacle in Central City you just pulled off, very impressive…”

Luthor is almost muttering to himself by now, and Bart briefly wonders how Lex Luthor already knows before his brain reminds him that _it’s **Lex Luthor** , **of course** he already knows._

“And you’d be provided with somewhere to stay, of course,” Luthor finishes, and that seals the deal.

Bart doesn’t want to turn his back now and quite possibly make a powerful enemy, and the benefits seem to outweigh the risks, and he could always _run_ if need be…

And after that little slip to Grandpa Barry (and _oops, spoilers_ ) Bart has no doubt that if he goes to his family then he will be asked countless awkward questions that he doesn’t want to answer and he’ll be asked all about the future and they’ll assume it’s great and he’ll have to _look them in the eyes_ and tell them that it’s _not_ and…

“I think,” he says slowly, and it’s the first time he’s been slow ever since he arrived in the past. “I would like to be your bodyguard, Luthor.” Then he remembers his manners, and adds, “please.”

Luthor is horribly silent for a couple of tense seconds, and then he nods.

“Very well,” he agrees good-naturedly, adding,” and, please, call me Lex.”

Bart doesn’t let himself feel any regret and beams.

“ _Crash_.”


	2. Jaime and Conner

Bart is randomly running around in the middle of nowhere (aka El Paso) – because how _crash_ is it that he doesn’t have a collar anymore? – and he isn’t paying attention at all to wherever his feet are actually landing. Which is probably why he trips over some rock and face plants on the floor.

“Ow,” he groans, his nose feeling all stuffy and moding, rolling over onto his back and staring up at the sky. Then Bart blinks, because suddenly there is a figure leaning over him and blotting out the sun.

“Dude, are you okay?” the person asks, and Bart squints his eyes behind the goggles as he tries to figure out who it actually _is_ (he can’t tell – sunlight and all). “That looks like it hurt.”

It _did_ , Bart wants to tell him, but all that’s forgotten once his eyes focus on the _familiar_ figure, and he shoots up because _grife_ , but _Blue Beetle_ is standing _right in front of him_.

Suddenly all he can think about is his years in the camp and inhibitor collars and _stand up, meat_ , and all Bart can think to do is _run_ because it’s _Blue Beetle_ and…

“Wait!” the person – no, the _monster_ – calls after him, and Bart doesn’t listen, just keeps running, even though he knows that the Blue Beetle of _now_ is not the Blue Beetle of _then_ , but he’s _scared_ and…

“Bart, you look troubled,” Lex Luthor comments, making Bart blink as he realise that he’s run to the older man’s office at LexCorp on instinct. It’s scary how quickly he seems to have adapted to doing that, but Blue Beetle is scarier so he doesn’t focus on it all too much. “Care to take a seat?”

Lex gestures towards the empty chair in front of his desk, and Bart flops into it, exhausted for reasons entirely different than the running, and takes a couple moments to collect himself as Luthor waits patiently.

“I just met Blue Beetle,” Bart says after a couple moments, the words sounding hollow and numb and _simple_ to even his own eyes but making him flinch at them nonetheless. “It wasn’t – _he_ wasn’t what I thought he would be.”

Because, looking back, the Blue Beetle he just met was smaller, and _nicer_ , and he seemed to _care_ and Bart’s sure that he’s heard some mutterings about how Blue Beetle wasn’t always bad. Though that doesn’t change the fact that Bart was still so, so _moded_ when he saw him.

Lex arches an eyebrow (on first name terms with a supervillain – _wow_ ).

“And what was that?” he asks coolly, and some level of Bart knows that he’s probably begin manipulated for information but he ignores it – he told himself he wouldn’t let himself feel any regret – and shrugs, eyes on the floor as his feet fidget.

“I dunno,” he answers vaguely, although he knows _exactly_ what he expected and both of them know it. He shrugs, a quick blur of the shoulders that no one but a speedster would probably catch. Lex isn’t a speedster (or at least, not that _Bart_ knows about), but he seems to spot the movement anyway. Bart guesses that’s what makes him such a good supervillain. “Big. Mean. Scary.” Lex looks calculating, and Bart tries to throw him off by adding, “it’s complicated.”

“It’s looking that way, yes,” Lex answers back, a glint in his eyes and amusement in his voice. Sensing that Bart probably wants to change the subject and it wouldn’t do to push him, the businessman does exactly the former. “How was your room? Have you been there yet?”

Bart perks up instantly, the image of the room itself coming into his mind, and he begins babbling a mile a minute about how _great_ it is (and this is true – it’s been years since he slept in a nice, comfy, _real_ bed and to suddenly have one again is _crash_ ). Lex seems amused, one eyebrow still raised, and as this is happening a gunman bursts into the room.

\--

It all happens so quickly that it’s over in a flash (literally, with Bart involved). The man bursts in, gun held firmly in front of him and pointed straight at Lex Luthor’s heart, and Bart is _supposed_ to be protecting him so he just dashes over there, plucks the gun out of the gunman’s sweaty gloved hands and knocks him out with a harsh blow to the head.

Bart thinks _oops_ , because he _still_ hasn’t learnt to hold fully back with his powers; Lex looks impressed, though, clapping slowly and smirking slightly.

“Very good,” he comments, with Bart is sure is probably high praise coming from him. “You passed the test.”

Bart blinks because _what test?_ , but then the frown fades from his face as his brain catches up with the situation (for a speedster, he can be so incredibly _slow_ sometimes).

“Oh,” he says dumbly, using the gun to gesture slightly at the man on the floor (which is all fine and crash, because it isn’t like he’ll _use_ it or anything). “So this guy works for you?”

Lex nods, and smiles.

“It seems you don’t require much additional training,” he states, pulling out the little notebook and jotting down some more things. Bart wishes he could read shorthand, but unfortunately that was never really important in the future and, to be honest, he’s lucky to even be able to read basic English. “Some, obviously, but it would seem that you are too fast for the majority who would try to harm me.”

Bart isn’t sure whether that’s good or bad, so he decides to take that as a compliment and beams.

“So, when do I start?” he asks enthusiastically, because it’s the first job he’s actually going to have a _choice_ in and he’s genuinely excited for this.

“How does tomorrow morning sound?” Lex asks, and Bart doesn’t even care that it’s more of a demand than a question and nods with as much enthusiasm as he can muster.  

\--

It’s his first day on the job and it’s already exciting. Some person (he looks like Superman but he _can’t_ be Superman because Superman isn’t that young) storms in and completely _ignores_ all the safety precautions that Luthor’s set up, and Bart goes to knock him out but Lex tells him not to.

“Don’t worry,” the older man assures, looking calm and relaxed and _amused_ , if anything. “Conner isn’t here to hurt me. He’s just here to… talk.”

Bart decides that that’s definitely an understatement when ‘Conner’ rips off the metal door and storms right inside, but Lex has told him not to attack and so he doesn’t attack.

“Conner,” Lex greets coolly, looking for all the world like a casual businessman. “What brings you here?”

“Don’t play dumb,” the Superman-lookalike growls, frowning but looking confused and upset and Bart knows how _that_ feels. “You took the Kryptonite down. You knew I was coming.”

“Yes, I did,” Luthor states, not denying anything and yet still in full control of the situation. Bart admires him for it. He knows that _he_ would be freaking out by now. “But why?”

“…Artemis is dead,” Conner finally says, and Bart isn’t quite sure who this ‘Artemis’ is but she clearly meant a lot to Conner and he feels bad because he’s _been there_ – he’s known grief and he’s lived through it and lived _with_ it, but something he’s learned is that no good can come from confronting those with more power than you.

Lex looks unsurprised.

“Thank you for informing me,” he states dryly, though all of them know that he already knew. “And I’d like you to meet my new bodyguard.” He gestures to his left, where Bart is standing. “This is Bart.”

“Hi,” Bart chirps, but Conner just frowns and looks confused.

“What happened to Mercy?” he asks, and seems _very_ unimpressed by Bart’s answer.

“I squashed her,” he informs with embarrassment, fidgeting nervously a little. “Sorry about that, but it was accident, I swear!”

“Great,” Conner sarcastically enthuses, sounding entirely the _opposite_ of enthusiastic, before turning away with disinterest and back towards Luthor. Bart frowns, because he appreciates grief and all but that was just _rude_ , but Conner doesn’t really seem to care about him. “But Artemis is _dead_ , Luthor. She’s _dead_ and she was my _friend_.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Lex states, and he _almost_ manages to sound sincere. Then he grabs some paperwork from the corner of his desk and begins to write on it. “If that will be all?”

Conner frowns but turns to leave, and as he walks out Bart decides to be nice despite the other guy’s rudeness.

“Nice to meet you!” he calls after him, but Conner doesn’t even spare him a glance as he walks out. Bart turns to Lex, frowning slightly. “Who _was_ that?”

“That,” Lex states, and Bart can almost swear he can see a little hint of warmth in the older man’s eyes. “Was Superboy. Also known as Conner Kent.”

“What a jerk.”

“He’s normally a lot more friendly,” Lex states, looking almost disappointed but not quite. “Particularly in recent years.” Lex finally lifts his head, staring at the spot where Conner left through the door. “But grief does funny things to people.”

Doesn’t Bart know it.

Grief drove him to travel back in time in order to save the world.


	3. Original Roy

Someone has just fired a missile through the window.

The office is smoking and in ruins behind them, and Lex wants to kill whoever the ‘assassin’ is.

“Don’t worry!” Bart chirps, sliding his goggles down his face until they’re smoothly over his eyes. “I’ll take care of it for you!”

Luthor pauses, then nods.

“Very well.”

And Bart is gone.

He finds the guy about to enter the building, face set harshly and weapon gripped tight.

He’s missing an arm.

“Hi!”

“Who the fuck are _you_?”

That’s the second person to ask Bart that, though Conner was a lot less rude about it. Bart’s not quite sure who this guy is, with his intimidating stance and eyes hidden behind a domino mask, but he seems interesting, so he guesses he’ll happily answer him.

“I’m Bart!” he states, holding out a hand – that’s what people do in the past, right?

The guy doesn’t shake his hand. Bart is tempted to just grab his hand and shake it anyway, but the guy has a weapon – a very _dangerous_ -looking one, too, and he’s not quite sure that this person is someone he wants to mess with. Instead, he simply eyes the gun-type thing apprehensively and lets out a nervous giggle.

“Are you going to use that?” he asks uncertainly. The guy glances at it as though he’d forgotten he was even holding it, but then suddenly he’s raising it.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he says, somehow managing to make an observation (and a very _wrong_ one, at that) sound ominous. “Who are you, and why are you here?”

“You mean, at Lex Luthor’s place?” Bart raises an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “I could ask you the same. _And_ , why you launched a missile into his office.” He pauses for a second. “I was in there, you know. It’s a good thing I was looking out the window, or else I would have _died_.”

Maybe that was a little too much emphasis on the last word, but it seems to have worked, because the guy looks slightly guilty. It lasts for all of five second before his face is back to being stony-faced and stoic.

Bart wonders who he is. He’d heard Lex muttering about some person and a hospital when he was doing his paperwork, but he hadn’t really been listening. Luthor was probably trying to do something that will help the Reach, and while Bart wants to know as much as he can, he figures that letting Lex know that he knows would probably not be a good idea.

But he digresses.

The point is, this guy is brooding and mysterious and _interesting_ , and he wants to know more. Like his name, for example. That would be a start.

The guy’s fingers clench tighter around his weapon. He grits his teeth.

“Why were you in his office,” he grinds out, and _grife_ , that wasn’t even a _question_. “Who the fuck _are_ you?”

Bart just smiles widely.

“I told you, I’m Bart,” he states, rolling his eyes. “And I’m afraid I can’t let you keep that weapon.”

The guy blinks, and his weapon is lying three feet away.

“…You’re a speedster,” the guy finally says, looking like he’s trying not to have an internal freak-out. It isn’t really working.

“Yup.” Bart pops the ‘p’, nodding enthusiastically. He feels like a bobblehead. “I work for Lex now.” He tilts his head, curiosity shining in his eyes. “Are you here to kill him?”

“Wait a minute,” the guy says, and Bart starts pouting because that really didn’t answer his question. “How old are you?”

“Thirteen.”

“And what is it, exactly, that you’re doing for Luthor? I mean, you’re calling him _Lex_.”

Bart grins, showing off his teeth, and it might just be his imagination but he’s _sure_ that the guy flinches.

“I’m his bodyguard!”

“Aren’t you a little young?”

“Not really.”

“Kid, you’re like, twelve.”

“Am not! I’m thirteen.”

“Same thing.”

“No it isn’t!”

“Ahem.” Someone clears their throat behind them, and Bart turns to see Lex Luthor standing with his briefcase. The villain cocks an eyebrow. “If the two of you are quite done?”

“Luthor,” the guy growls out, narrowing his eyes and widening his shoulders. He’s probably meant to look intimidating and it isn’t really working, but Bart’s not about to rain on his parade.

“Well, well,” Luthor states, moving forwards slightly. “That’s quite the arsenal you’ve brought tonight, Mr Harper.”

Bart looks at the sky, and wonders when it became night.

“I don’t care about what you’ve got to say,” the guy – no, _Mr Harper_ says, managing to look both incredibly calm and incredibly moded at once. Bart wonders how he pulls it off. “What I want to know, is what the _hell_ you did to this kid.”

Bart blinks, and realises that Mr Harper’s only arm is pointing towards him. He frowns.

“Hey, I’m not a kid! And he didn’t do anything to me!”

“Quite right,” Luthor states, an almost-smirk settling on his face. And then he starts blabbering on about ‘strength’ and ‘stratagems’ and ‘force of mind’, which even Bart has to admit is starting to drag a little bit, and with each word Luthor speaks Mr Harper’s face starts to get more and more annoyed.

“Can it, Luthor,” he finally buts in, eyes narrowed threateningly. “Admit it, you did something to this little kid!”

“I’m not little!” Bart inputs, folding his arms – even though he _is_ little and he knows it. He’d actually been pretty normal-sized in his time, but in the past apparently everyone gets more to eat, and, thus, Bart has ended up ‘little’. “And I’m not a kid! I bet I’ve seen worse things than you ever will. Hold on. Forget I said that.”

Both men look at him oddly – Mr Harper with slight shock, and Lex with… not shock, exactly, but… _interest_? Either way, both looks are pretty moding.

“God,” Mr Harper finally says. “Who _are_ you?”

“Grife. Who are _you_?”

“I can’t tell you!”

“Why not? I told you who I am.”

“First of all, what you told me was so unbelievably vague it doesn’t even count.”

“How was it vague? It was my _name_.”

“Second of all, it would seem you don’t really care about identities.”

“I mean, my name is _literally_ what you asked for.”

“I _do_ care about secret identities. And I’m going to keep mine.”

“Secret identities are _so_ retro.”

“Will you stop butting in?”

“We should get milkshake!”

“What?”

Both of them are staring at him again. Bart just grins and rocks on his heels.

“Milkshake! The three of us.” Both continue to stare blankly. Bart puffs out his cheeks then exhales slowly. “This little confrontation is happening on the street, where it’s cold and I’m standing up and Mr Harper’s getting really wound up. And we didn’t have milkshake where I’m from. It’ll be perfect!”

The guy blinks. “Mr Harper?”

Bart just shoots him a look.

“That’s your name, right?”

Mr Harper opens his mouth to say something else, but Luthor cuts in smoothly once again.

“Not that I would be opposed to the idea, but I’m afraid I still have paperwork to complete,” he informs, that almost-smile still lurking by the corners of his mouth. “Though, I suppose if you two want to go ahead and do that, then it’s fine with me as long as you’re back within the hour.”

“Great!” Bart enthuses, while Mr Harper just looks confused.

“Wait, I didn’t agree to this -”

“Roy,” Lex says, turning to Mr Harper. (And, _oh_ , so _that’s_ his name.) “I have something for you.”

‘Roy’ takes the briefcase that is offered to him, looking cautious.

“What is it?” he asks, eying it with distrust.

“Satisfaction,” is all Luthor says, before turning around and walking back into the building.

“So it’s _Roy_ , huh?”

 --

Roy Harper isn’t quite sure how he’s been roped into this – he came here to enact vengeance and murder his kidnapper, and somehow he’s ended up being dragged by the hand – at _superspeed_ – towards the local café.

The kid – Bart, was it? – suddenly comes to a dead stop, whirling round with that superspeeded enthusiasm  Roy has sometimes seen in Kid Flash. Bart grins widely, looking slightly embarrassed as he does so.

(How is it possible for one person to smile to widely?)

“I don’t… actually know where the nearest café is,” the kid sheepishly admits. He perks up pretty quickly, though. “Do you know where there is one?”

Roy blinks, because he’s still caught up on his _fucking_ vengeance, the vengeance he’s somehow managed to let slip through his fingers, and for some reason he’s still got a hold of this goddamn briefcase, which is probably booby-trapped or something, but to be honest he hasn’t got the time to worry about that now because _the kid is in his face_.

“Hey Ro-oy,” he sings out, big eyes blinking widely behind his goggles. Roy blinks, too. “Are you okay?”

“…I’m fine,” he finally manages to get out. “I think there’s probably a café round here somewhere.”

The kid grins yet _again_ , and begins dragging him along.

“Well, I’m sure it won’t be _that_ hard to find. And then we’ll have milkshakes and we’ll talk and it’ll be fun!”

Roy can’t remember the last time he had fun. Certainly not at any point during the past eight years, encased in ice, unfeeling. There were no opportunities for ‘fun’ there.

But, still. He’s not so sure that having milkshake with some weird kid will be his definition of fun, either.

“What’s your surname, anyway?” he eventually asks because he’s gotten nothing better to do. The kid doesn’t even hesitate before answering.

“Allen.”

“Allen. As in, _Barry_ Allen?”

“Uh huh. I’m his grandson.”

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“Why would I be kidding you?”

“So… you’re from the future, or something?”

“Yeah. It’s totally crash!”

Roy can’t even deal with this right now.

“I can’t even deal with this right now.”

“You don’t _have_ to deal with this right now. You can deal with this while we’re having milkshakes.”

“…Alright.”

God. What an obnoxious kid.

But, to be honest, Roy kinda does now want these milkshakes.


	4. Clone Roy and Green Arrow

The milkshake place is open and bright and Bart loves it.

“What flavours do they even have, anyway?” he asks Roy, seated across the table. Said archer glares broodingly at the menu, and Bart stifles a laugh. _Grife_ , this guy’s so _moody_. Bart just hopes that the milkshake will cheer him up a little.

“The usual,” Roy answers with. Bart has _no_ idea what ‘the usual’ entails. He tells Roy so. Roy shoots him a _look_. “You know. Chocolate. Vanilla. Strawberry.”

Bart’s never had strawberries before.

“I’ve never had strawberries before!” he proclaims, bobbing up and down slightly. Roy just _stares_ at him. And not in a ‘what a cool kid way’. No, in a ‘what is this child doing’ way. Which, wow, _rude._ “I think I’ll get the strawberry one! Wait, no! Vanilla! I don’t even know what that is but it sounds cool. Wait, which is your favourite?”

“Chocolate.”

“I’ll get that, then,” Bart decides, nodding. When the waitress comes over, Bart grins at her. “Roy’ll have a chocolate milkshake! And so will I! And I’ll have the vanilla and the strawberry ones, too!”

Roy stares at him in disbelief. The waitress, much to her credit, doesn’t even blink – just jots down the orders and then wanders off.

An uncomfortable silence reigns.

Bart starts humming. Roy continues to stare.

“…Will you _cut that out_?” Roy finally snaps, and Bart stops humming to look at him with big eyes. Roy looks slightly guilty for several seconds – probably because Bart’s eyes are so _big_ when he wants them to be – then, “what are you even humming, anyway?”

Bart shrugs.

“I have no idea,” he proclaims, fingers tapping against each other. He’s probably moving at superspeed but Roy doesn’t say anything, so he just keeps on doing it. “It’s just some song that Lex keeps playing.”

“Yeah, about that,” Roy says, a strange look on his face that Bart can’t quite work out. “You’re calling him Lex, kid.”

Bart frowns.

“Why _wouldn’t_ I call him Lex? And I’m _not_ a kid.”

“You’re twelve,” Roy points out. Bart grins.

“Thirteen, _actually_.”

“You’re twelve,” Roy continues as though Bart hadn’t even spoken. “And you have superspeed and you _say_ you’re from the future and you’re working as a bodyguard for a Lex Luthor. Does nothing about that strike you as being odd?”

“Nope!” Bart narrows his eyes. “How old are _you_ , anyway?”

“I -” Roy takes a second to look outraged before shaking his head furiously. “That’s none of your business!”

Their milkshakes arrive. Bart picks up the one closest to him without looking and takes a sip. Mmm. It’s nice. Like, _really_ nice. Why don’t they have milkshakes in the future? The Reach’d make a _killing_.

“I bet you’re younger than me,” he teases, taking another sip of _pure bliss_. Bart points at his drink. “Is this vanilla?”

“That’s strawberry,” Roy answers. “And I’m not _younger_ than you, no _way_! I’m fifteen!”

“You look older than fifteen,” Bart points out, then proclaims, “Strawberry is my new favourite flavour.”

“You’ve not even tried the other ones yet,” Roy retorts, scowling and pulling his own milkshake towards him. He grumbles the next sentence, and Bart has to strain his ears to hear. “And being locked in a test tube does that to you.”

Then Roy perks – well, not _perks_ exactly, because he looks anything other than happy – Roy _straightens_ up and his eyes flicker to beneath the table.

“Hey,” he begins cautiously. Bart smiles at him. Roy looks a bit uncomfortable, but carries on regardless. Good for him. “You don’t happen to know what’s in this briefcase, do you?”

Bart shakes his head, wildly, hair flying about.

“No idea!” he announces. “It’s probably really cool, though. You’re lucky! I wish _I’d_ get a crash mysterious briefcase.”

“You really don’t,” Roy assures in a somewhat-deadpan way, finally taking his first sip of his milkshake. Wow, _slowpoke_. Bart’s already drained his first one and is halfway to finishing Number 2 already. Roy seems to notice this, too. “You… drank that fast.”

“Mm.” Bart’s little humming noise marks him reaching the end of his second milkshake. He leans back in his seat and fiddles with the straw. “What flavour was this one?”

“Vanilla,” Roy informs, and _oh_ , _that’s_ vanilla. Bart makes a little ‘o’ shape with his mouth. “Hey, how come you know what milkshake is but you don’t know the flavours?”

“Mum mentioned it a lot, I think. Said it was nice, but never said _why_ ,” Bart answers half-vacantly, before beaming sunnily and announcing, “But enough about that!”

“Yeah, okay.” Roy still sounds kind of uncomfortable, but to his credit he really does let that thread of conversation drop. “Which of us is paying, anyway?”

Bart blinks.

“Paying? Oh, paying! Yeah, we don’t really do that in the future. Do we _have_ to pay?”

“Yes,” Roy states frankly.

“Can’t we just claim Scavenger Rights?”

“What even is that? You know what, never mind – no, we can’t.”

Roy is such a killjoy. Whoa, that rhymed. Killjoy-Roy. Bart’s new favourite thing.

“So, Killjoy Roy,” Bart announces, grinning and moving in to lean on the table. “If _I’m_ not paying, and you’re being an utter _killjoy_ , then – wait, who’s _that_?”

“Who’s _who_?” Roy snaps suspiciously, turning around to look at where Bart’s looking. He groans when he sees who it is. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“Roy!” a blonde man exclaims, as he makes his way over to the table, followed closely by… another Roy? Bart blinks. Okay. Two Roys. Twins, he guesses. He can deal with that. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“I didn’t _ask_ you to look for me,” Roy grounds out just as the two strangers reach their table. Bart unapologetically stares, but neither of them have even noticed him yet. “So will you _quit_ following me around?”

“Maybe they want what’s in your briefcase,” Bart chimes in, smiling and waving when the two strangers turn to him. “Hi.”

“Who’s this?”

“Bart,” both Bart and Roy answer at the same time, shooting each other a look before Roy continues with, “ _ignore_ him.”

“Don’t ignore me! Killjoy Roy’s just being a grumpy killjoy, _as usual_.”

The blonde guy blinks.

“What?”

“Ignore him,” Roy repeats. “He’s insane.”

Roy #2 looks confused. Bart doesn’t blame him.

“Look,” Roy says, garnering all of their attentions. “I’m kind of busy.”

“Busy drinking milkshake?” Roy #2 points out, cocking an eyebrow. Roy grimaces.

“You’re almost finished,” the blonde guy says. “We can go back to the Cave and talk there.”

“I’m not going _anywhere_ with you,” Roy grinds out. “Leave me _alone_.”

“You know that’s not an option.”

“Ooh, if you’re going to your base can I come?” Bart butts in. All three heads turn to look at him, and all three of them frown in sync.

“No,” Roy says bluntly, and Roy #2 pulls a face.

“Who even _are_ you?”

“I already told you, I’m Bart.” Bart holds his head high. “And I’ve decided – I’m coming.”

“No, you’re not,” the blonde man tries, and Bart _really_ likes his goatee.

“You can’t stop me,” he claims, trying to take a sip of his milkshake and frowning when he realises it’s all gone.

“You probably can’t,” Roy informs glumly. “He’s a fucking lunatic.”

“Language,” the guy scolds, and Bart thinks that he really didn’t pick up on the right part of the sentence there. Roy scowls, so he must agree.

“I can swear when I want!”

“You’re behaving like a _child_!”

“Well, since I’ve been stuck in a _pod_ for eight years, I technically _am_ one!”

“Everyone’s staring,” Roy #2 points out, but both Roy and the blonde man ignore him.

“Let them stare,” Roy answers, and _oh_ , maybe he _was_ listening after all. “Because I’m _done_.”

He stands up, picking up the briefcase with his singular arm. Bart stares at the briefcase intently. He _really_ wants to know what’s inside.

“Hey – Roy, not so fast,” the blonde guy says, but Roy just scowls.

“My clone here is going to take me to this ‘Cave’ you were talking about,” he demands, and Bart watches Roy #2 raise his eyebrows. “You’re going to pay, because you owe me at least _that_ , and if you’re still so _desperate_ to talk when you get back then we will.”

Both Roy and Roy #2 leave together, ignoring the stares of the other customers. The blonde man doesn’t watch them leave – just sighs and looks forlornly down at the table.

Bart shifts.

“What’s your name?”

“…Ollie,” the man answers, though his heart isn’t in it. Bart nods.

When the waitress comes along with the bill a few seconds later, Ollie pulls out a couple of notes and hands them over, grinning at her wide eyes.

“Keep the change,” he says, then starts to leave. Bart stands up to follow, and Ollie shoots him a sidelong look. “What are you doing?”

“Following you,” Bart chirps, smirking. “Don’t even _try_ to stop me.”

Ollie widens his eyes, and Bart can’t tell if it’s in a mocking way or not. He guesses it doesn’t really matter.

“You’re really creepy, kid,” he informs, before sighing. “Whatever. It’s not like I can screw up more than I already have.”

Bart doesn’t know what to say to that other than “I don’t know what you did but from what I’ve seen I agree”, and he figures it’s _probably_ best if he doesn’t say that. And so he doesn’t say anything.

“…I like your goatee,” he states after a few awkward seconds, and he hears Ollie snort above him.

“That makes one person,” he comments, grinning down at Bart. “You know, I’ve changed my mind. Maybe you’re not so bad.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Bart mutters darkly, and when Ollie shoots him a weird look he just grins cheerily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy halloween!!


End file.
